A landscape of illusory peace is depicted just before the guns of battle reach it in the first world war

Leaves

A frail and tenuous mist on baffled and intricate branches; Little gilt leaves are still, for quietness holds every bough; Pools in the muddy road slumber, reflecting indifferent stars; Steeped in the loveliness of moonlight is earth, and the valleys, Brimmed up with quiet shadow, with a mist of sleep.

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